


Venus In Your Blood

by Philomela



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, M/M, Mpreg, creature!fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-02-12
Updated: 2013-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-31 00:58:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/338153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Philomela/pseuds/Philomela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James and Lily seemed to have been keeping some secrets. Now Harry has to figure it out himself, all while being courted by an unlikely suitor. To top it off, enemies are trying to be friendly and friends are coming off as enemies. The world seemed to have turned on its head the day of his seventeenth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

The waves crashed over the rocks below, reaching higher and higher with every attempt. 

James thought he felt the ocean spray misting his face, like a lover’s longing caress. 

“Soon, you will have another to cradle in your waters. Soon.”

The words, softly spoken, rode the gentle wind and settled upon the frenzied waves, calming her desperate attempts to reach him.

An eerie silence momentarily preceeded the desperate pleas of the new mother, exhausted from her ordeal.

“Lord Potter,” a weary voice called, drawing his attention away from the open window over to the family midwife, cradling the swaddled form of his child.

“Thank you for you service, Lorraine.” 

“Always, Lord Potter.” 

With a warm smile dancing across his lips, James swept his child into his arms, carrying him away to the room down the hall. 

“Where is he? Where is my baby? James! I want to see my baby! Give me my baby!”

“Lorraine,” James called back as he paused in front of the room. 

“Of course, Lord Potter.” With a curtsy, the midwife reentered the room and attempted to quiet the missus.

“That is my baby. Mine! You can’t have him. You can’t. Don’t take my baby from me! James!”

“Ma’m, please calm down. There is no need for all this fuss,” Lorraine kept her voice soft and gentle, her movements slow and in sight - as if approaching a wild animal.

“I want to see my baby!” 

“I understand, ma’m, I really do, but there’s no need for all this screaming. You’ll only cause yourself harm. Why don’t we just lay back and take a nap, hm? Before you know it, your husband will be back with the child.” 

Lily did not appreciate the patronising words. This woman was siding with her husband, she was the enemy, she could not be trusted.

They were trying to take her baby away from her.

When the midwife tried to restrain her, Lily lunged, her nails scraping against the flesh of the womans face. Immediately, Lily was pushed back by the woman’s magic, restraints snapping around her body and foiling her attempts at freeing herself. 

Staunching the blood flow with a clean towel, the midwife calmly turned to her, eyes burning with repressed anger. 

“Ma’m, I will not ask you again. Calm down.” Spitting out a mouth full of blood, Lorraine turned back to the writhing mother, a cruel smile on her sure-to-scar face. “I assure you, I will take the utmost pleasure in tranquilizing you.” 

Instead of calming in the face of the ultimatum, Lily increased her frenzy, her screams filtered through the gag in her mouth. 

“Really, Lily, you act as if I was to separate you two for good. I am not nearly cruel enough to do that. If this continues though…” The implication hung in the air, frightening Lily to an unatural stillness. 

Her crazed green eyes - brightened to an almost unholy yellow-green in her anger - turned to land on her husband. She visibly calmed as her eyes met their match in the swaddled form cradled in James’ arms. The baby cooed at her, his feeble core pushing his magic out to caress her arm. 

She turned pleading eyes to her husband, whom in turn nodded to Lorraine. 

The midwife was not pleased. 

… … … 

Their relationship had always been a little strained, but it was expected when two people quick to anger live together.

Yet, there was a different quality to this tension. It had become more apparent once they were foced into hiding, but James was sure that it started that last day in The Orkney’s.

He couldn’t find it within himself to care. 

“James, just tell me. I’m your wife, and the mother of our child, _I have a right to know_.” Lily begged for the umpteenth time that day. 

“No, you don’t.” James calmly stated as he bounced Harry on his knees, smiling as his son started giggling at the feeling. 

“What?” Lily looked as if she had been slapped. 

“You are not a Potter, and therefore have no right to know what happened that day.” James made sure to catch her eyes, cutting her off before she could protest. “A Potter you may be, but in name only. You are not a Potter by blood. That is the difference. When Harry is old enough, he will be told. But you? Never. You’ll never know. That is the way it has always been, and that is the way it will always be.” 

Lily seemed to have been struck dumb, her eyes wide in disbelief. 

Suddenly, her eyes narrowed, gaining that unholy yellow-green coloration. 

“Alright.” She said simply, shrugging her shoulders. James sat up, his instincts screaming in warning. 

Harry’s laughter faded off, as if sensing the brewing turmoil. 

“Alright, I give up. You will not tell me what happened, and I will have to accept that.” Her lips began stretching, a curious smile on her face as she tilted her head to the side; shivers ran up and down James’ spine as he took in the unnatural appearance of his wife. 

“But James darling, would you care to explain what you keep in that lovely box of yours?” James alarmed now, carefully stood up, cradling Harry against his shoulder. 

“What box?” James began to slowly make his way backwards, hoping to beat his slowly approaching wife to the stairs. 

“Don’t play dumb with me.” She hissed, her smile morphing into a disapproving frown. “You know the one. The handcrafted, silver box in the Potter vaults. The one that you used to carry around with you everywhere in school. Tell me James, what are you hiding in there?” James stopped midstep, a sudden anger consuming him. 

“How did you know about that?” His voice came out calm, betraying none of his fury. 

“How I found out is unimportant. Though I can assure you, you did not make it easy.” Whirling around on the spot, James pinned Lily in place. 

“When we exchanged our vows, Lily, I had informed you that there were certain things that you were never to inquire after. I _told_ you that our marriage would be dissolved as soon as you asked. I have humored you, as you continuously pestered me with questions of _that day_. No more. I should have done this the first day you asked. _Obliviate_.” The spell was said with a calm that should have surprised Lily, but she had no time to ponder that as she swiftly dodged the memory charm. 

“Oh no, James. You won’t get rid of me that easily.”

Quicker than the protection charm he was casting, a poison green curse hit him in the chest. 

With one last accusing stare at the deranged red head, James collapsed to the ground.

Harry floated calmly in the air, cradled by James’ spell. 

Lily, calm as can be — as if she hadn’t just killed her husband and father of her child — stepped over the still body and plucked Harry from the embrace of the dead man’s spell. 

“My precious little baby, come to Mommy.” With a confused gurgle, and a quick glance to his father sleeping on the floor, Harry reached out to his mother, calming as her arms held him securely against her bosom. 

It was ok. He was safe. 

Wailing, immitating that of a banshee’s, filled the air as the wards around Godric’s Hollow were torn apart. 

Clutching her baby against her, Lily fled up the stairs just as the front door was blasted apart. 

“Oh, did I interrupt something?” Voldemort chuckled as he toed James’ body, before stepping over it and calmly gliding up the stairs. 

“No matter. Just one less Gryffindor I have to kill. I suppose I should thank you, Lily.” 

Lily, frantic, locked herself in Harry’s nursery, overturning tables and sweeping books and toys off the shelves. 

“Where is it? Where did I hide it? _Goddamnit_!” She growled, her eyes flitting from corner to corner as she wracked her brain, trying to remember where she hid that portkey. 

“James.” She growled in dawning horror. That bastard wouldn’t, would he?

_He tried to take your child._

He tried to take Harry from her, why wouldn’t he destroy her portkey?

But, he’s not that stupid. He wouldn’t destroy it, not if he wanted to hide that he knew about it. No, he’d just… _Transfigure_ it.

Lily sent out her magic, trying to feel for the distinctive signature of the portkey. 

Her eyes glowed in pleasure as she spotted the hidden baby rattle. 

“Oh James, you always were clever, I’ll admit. But not clever enough.” With a chuckle, Lily bent over to pick up the portkey. 

The door flew at her, knocking her away from the portkey. Terrified, she curled her body around Harry’s, protecting him from the collision against the nursery wall. 

Once she was sure Harry was alright, she tried to search out the portkey. With dawning horrow, she watched as Voldemort picked up the baby rattle. 

“A portkey, hm? I sorry, but you won’t be getting away that easily.” 

Lily watched, tears gathering in despair as Voldemort destroyed her portkey,  her only escape. 

“Come on Lily, show some pride. Stand up like the brilliant witch you are and hand over the child. I’m sure you value your life, isn’t that why you killed poor James?” 

“Never.” She choked out, her back screaming at her as she stumbled into an upright position. 

“Come now, Lily. You’re supposed to be intelligent. Top of your year, isn’t that right? Surely you’re not stupid enough to die for your son. You know I’ll just kill him anyway. It’s a lose-lose situation.” 

“ _You won’t take my baby away from me!_ ” She snarled, that unholy light brightening her eyes. 

Yellow-green eyes met red. 

Voldemort smiled. 

“Very well. I’m kind. I’ll let you reunite in the afterlife. _Avada Kedavra!_ ” Quicker than Voldemort’s spell, Lily cast one last protection charm over Harry, working off of the remains of James’. 

“My baby, _mine_.” Lily choked out, as the green light engulfed her, sending her body crashing to the floor, cushioning baby Harry’s fall. 

“Now, baby Harry, time to meet your Mummy, hm?” With a cruel smile, Voldemort sent another curse at Harry. 

Certain of the spell’s success, Voldemort made to leave the room, but was stopped as he witnessed the oddest and single most terrifying thing: his spell was coming back at him.


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing Harry noticed was that he didn’t need his glasses.

The second, was his hair.

Harry cocked his head to the side as he observed his reflection.

His hair had lengthened and seemed tamer — the loose curls weighed down to form sleek waves that swept across his shoulder blades.

The glamour had failed.

Harry examined a hand full of hair, watching as the light highlighted and brought out the red. White flashed as he bit into his bottom lip, worrying it until it flushed red. The change would be noticeable, and questions would be asked. What would he say? He couldn’t tell them the truth, that wasn’t even an option. Maybe they’d believe he had it dyed over the summer?

As he brushed his hair out of his face, he caught a flash of gold in the mirror. Pausing, he turned his face this way and that, trying to find — there!

Leaning in closer to the mirror, Harry saw that his eyes had lightened to a yellow-green color, flecked with spots of darker green. If the light hit it just right, it seemed to flash a gold color.

Harry let out a sigh as he straightened up. Maybe the changes would be noticeable after all, but they could easily be explained through the use of contact lenses and hair dye with a liberal dose of teenage rebellion.

Harry took a minute to look at his reflection as a whole.

On the other hand, maybe it wouldn’t be that easy to explain away the differences.

It seemed as if his angles had softened, became more effeminate. He didn’t look like a girl, but he didn't look particularly manly either.

Maybe fae-like would be the best description.

“Like those elves in that story — something about rings?” Peering one last time at his reflection, Harry gave a shrug and began dressing for the day.

The clothes were ones he had worn numerous times before, but that day they seemed to chafe his skin creating an uncomfortable and itching feeling. Harry couldn't do anything about it and so tried to ignore it the best he could as he set about doing his chores.

It was a lovely day out, a picture perfect summer day with the clear blue skies and the complacent white clouds drifting about lazily.

The heat from the sun gently caressed his skin, causing his eyes to close several times as a sound — rather like a purr — rose up from deep within, but that was silly because humans didn’t purr, they physically couldn’t.

Harry couldn't deny though that he would like nothing more than to stretch out on the plush grass and soak up the sun, maybe take a quick nap, but he had to finish pruning these roses.

Descisions, descions.

Harry let out a sigh, allowing his eyes to fall closed as the sun warmed his back.

“Harry?”

Startled, Harry fell back, sprawled out on the lawn, dazed.

Once he was actually laid out on the grass though, he couldn’t find it within himself to get back up, it just felt too good.

“Harry?” A shadow fell over him, blocking the sun as the owner of the voice bent over him.

Green eyes fluttered open and stared straight up into amber eyes, that were way too close.

“Gah!” Sitting up quickly, Harry collided with the head above him. Two pained groans called out as they rubbed their respective heads.

A barking laugh broke the moment and Harry was able to focus on the two men standing on the lawn of Number Four Privet Drive.

“Sirius! Remus! Remus, merlin, are you okay?”

“Yes, yes. It’s all right, just a little bump. Just to be safe, though, I’ll keep my distance.” With a chuckle, Sirius held out a hand and helped his godson to his feet.

Once he was vertical, Sirius took the time to appraise the other.

“You are Harry, right?” The question was delivered with a good-natured tone, though the words belied an underlying doubt.

“What a thing to say, Siri!” Harry laughed, leaning into his godfather’s body as those arms wrapped him into a hug.

Sirius held the other close to his body, arms tightening to an almost unbearable level. Sometimes, Sirius still couldn’t believe that he could walk around like this, able to talk and hold his godson outside where anyone could recognize him.

“I’ve missed you, pup,” he whispered into the top of his head, tightening his hold a bit more before releasing the boy.

“Ready to go?” Remus asked, his eyes soft as he watched the reunion between godfather and godson. Harry turned around, head tilted and a question in his eyes.

“We’re here to take you to Grimmauld for the rest of the summer... and for however long you would wish to stay there.”

 

* * *

 

“Now, Harry, I think I should warn you, we won’t be the only ones inhabiting Grimmauld this summer...” Remus trailed off, waiting for the teen to refocus.

“Hmm?” Harry broke off the staring match he had been engaged in with Walburga Black's portrait — which was strangely quiet since their arrival.

“Snape has comandeered the lower level of my house, that pretentious overgrown bat. Who does he think he is? Nesting without so much as a by-your-leave or at least some sort of advanced notice!” Sirius descended into a series of mumbled obsenities as he remembered his ire over the situation.

“Yeah, what Sirius said.” Remus tossed a cheeky grin at Harry as the teen gave him an amused look.

“I’m sure I won’t even see him until term starts. Now, where can I dump all this stuff?”

“Come on, you’ll be staying in the room near ours. My room will be right next door and Sirius’ will be just across the hall.”

Harry trailed after the two, his gaze drifting back to meet that of Walburga Black. Green eyes lazily trailed over the canvas, alighting upon the thick silver band strapped across her wrist. A quick jerk had the band removed from his sight, a frown crawling over his lips as yellow-green orbs glared accusingly into a pair of cautious blue ones.

"Harry?" Remus' voice drifted over from further up the staircase.

The frown turned into a pout and the gaze turned petulant.

"Right behind you!" Quickly scampering up the stairs, he managed to reach the duo as they stepped off onto the second floor.

"Sorry, had to stop and pull out a splinter." Waving off the motherly concern overflowing from Sirius at this remark, he hefted his bags in his arms and entered his designated room.

A smile formed as he took note of the obvious redecoration. He walked around the room, fingers trailing over the silver thread of the wallpaper and fingering the silver handles of his dresser.

"You did this for me?" He slowly turned around, fingers cradling the silver hand mirror that had lain across the top of his vanity.

"Of course!" Sirius sounded almost offended. "Couldn't have you staying in some musty old room that hadn't seen the light of the sun in Merlin knows how many years, now could we?"

"I suppose not," Harry sighed. He laughed as Sirius glared petulantly at him. "Now, now, Siri, which one of us is the child?"

"Oh, I don't know about that," Remus teased, dodging Sirius' swinging arm. "No offense meant, of course."

"Oh sure, let's gang up Sirius. Bah!" With a glare and a pout, he stomped out of the room and into his own. The slamming of a door catalyzing the almost maniacal laughter emitting from the two left in the room.

That day had set the standard for how the following week would play out.

Sirius was childish, Harry was devious and Remus was indulgent.

It was easy to get absorbed into their micro-chasm of a world. Easy to forget that people other than these three existed out there.

Easy to forget that they were not the only ones inhabiting Grimmauld Place.

Harry had slipped out of Morpheus' arms one night, his parched mouth screaming out for water and leading him to his current predicament.

Having downed his required glass of water he had made his way out of the kitchen and approached the staircase.

It was here, en route, that he was accosted.

A strong, hard body pushed him against the nearest wall, forcing the breath from his body and cracking his skull against the hard wood.

An iron grip shackled his wrists above his head and a heavy force pinned his body against the wall, leaving him vulnerable.

He felt the collar of his shirt move aside; felt a long nose pressed against his pulse point, inhaling deeply whatever scent was found there. Later, he felt a mouth clamp down on that same spot and mark him.

What occurred immediately after was a blur of sensations.

He could recall lips meeting and hands roughly pulling his hair and bodies sliding against each other. He could remember the feel of those hands caressing exposed skin; diving beneath his shirt and mapping out his chest. He could recall the heady scent that surrounded him, a mixture of aromas that had him light headed and aroused beyond belief.

He could remember that it felt like an eternity in those arms, but felt like seconds when that heat was ripped from him.

"Shit!"

Green eyes looked up and into a void of black.

"Professor... Snape?" The spoken words seemed to enrage the larger figure, prompting a harsh glare and sharp words.

"Potter!” Those eyes darted from point to point over his face, unable to concentrate on any singular spot. Harry was not in the correct mind frame to make judgements, but it felt as if Snape was at a loss for words.

“Forget this whole mess and go to bed." With a sound of frustration made in the back of his throat, and a last desperate sweep of those eyes over his form, Snape disappeared into the surrounding shadows.

 

* * *

 

After that late-night encounter, Snape seemed to have completely disappeared — not that his presence had been notable beforehand.

Harry had taken to wandering the halls late at night, in the hope of running into the man again and maybe getting some of his questions answered. He had been under the opinion that the professor would have rather kissed a dementor than Harry, nevermind the fact that there had been a bit more than kissing involved that night. Harry still had the mark that Snape had left on his neck, though it had faded some from the time he had checked it the morning after the encounter.

Absentmindedly, he traced the mark; fingers caressed the slightly raised skin, memorizing the odd pattern that had appeared.

“Harry?!” Sirius’ panicked voice cut through the fog that had descended upon his mind. Quickly shaking his head, he scrambled off of his bed and headed downstairs to calm his godfather.

“I’m right here, Sirius.” When those blue eyes landed on his form, he rushed over and pulled him into a bone-crushing embrace.

“Where were you?” Harry noted the odd behaviour but refrained from commenting.

“I was just in my room having a lie-in. I had dozed off when you called me.”

“See, Sirius, nothing to worry about.” Sirius raised his head and glared at Remus.

“When Harry is involved, I can’t help but worry.” Harry chuckled at that and slipped out of the hold his godfather had him in.

“What brought this on?” Green eyes turned to Remus for an answer, though the werewolf had none.

“Never mind that, just something my mother said to me. Though I know better than to listen to anything coming from that hag,” Sirius grumbled, angry that he had paid any mind to his mother’s portrait.

“Well, now that that’s settled, why don’t we go to Diagon Alley and get your shopping done. I heard that Flourish and Blott’s is having a sale — half off on everything in the store,” Remus said, red staining his cheeks in embarrassment.

Laughter accompanied the group as they made their way to Diagon Alley and Sirius continued to tease the other as they walked up the steps to Gringotts.

“Almost forgot. Harry,” Remus fished in his robe pockets for a second before pulling out a small wooden case about as long as his hand. He undid the latch on the front and carefully raised the lid, revealing an ornate silver key. “this would be yours — for the family vault.”

Green eyes zeroed in on the key as soon as it was revealed, hands reaching out and reclaiming it as soon as it was offered. The quick motion of his hands shocked Remus and Sirius, it was much too fast to be attributed to a human though the two quickly wrote it off as a skill honed from many a game of Quidditch — that kind of speed would certainly be useful in stealing the Snitch in a close match.

Harry turned the key over in his hands, tracing the delicate seeming pattern of the handle, the motion of his fingers bordering on a caress.

“Well, this is as far as I go. Why don't you go down with Sirius while I stay up here?” Remus coughed, unsure of the odd atmosphere that had descended upon their group.

“Hmm?” Harry tore his eyes away from the key to look up at the other in confusion. “Why don’t you come along with us, Remus? You’re just as much family as Sirius is.”

Remus smiled, touched at the statement. “While I’m glad you think that way, the Potter vaults are reinforced with silver. It would be the height of foolishness for me to step foot in there.”

“I was always curious about the Potters’ fascination with silver,” Sirius mused. “Most of the old families were paranoid about their vaults, but they generally chose something sturdier - like Tungsten.”

“Well, let’s get going pup. I’m sure Remus is anxious to get his hands on some of those books.” With a barking laugh and a scowling Remus, the pair made their way to the cart that would take them to the bowels of the bank — where all of the old families had their vaults.

As Harry approached the large expanse of wall infront of him, he felt a presence — the wards? — reach out and sweep over him. He must have passed the examination as the presence slowly retreated and a key hole appeared in the center of the blank wall. He looked up at Sirius with a confused and slightly wary expression but his godfather just smiled and nudged him over to the wall.

Cautiously, as if expecting something to jump out and attack him, Harry inserted the key and every so slowly turned it until he heard a click. A door materialised in front of him, causing Harry to jump back in shock.

“I’m sure I’ve mentioned this just minutes before, but the old families are all paranoid about their vaults — especially the main vaults — and the Potters are no different. Though I do have to admit, that this is the first time I’ve seen this type of protection. My family requires an ounce of blood in order for the door to open, no keys necessary.” Sirius grimaced as he seemed to recall his experience with the Black family vault.

With another look back, to make sure his godfather was right behind him, Harry pushed open the door and finally stepped inside the Potter family vault.

Harry heard Sirius let out a low whistle as they looked around the vault, but Harry quickly tuned him out as his eyes jumped from one corner of the room to another, never knowing where to stop.

The walls were made from sheets of silver and decorated with pearls. Everywhere he looked, Harry could only see silver: from the sea of sickles, to the silver framed portraits lining the walls, to the pile of silver based jewlery on display in that far right corner, to the silver shields on the far left wall.

A smile blossomed on Harry’s face as it sunk in that this — all of this silver — was his and that there was no one that could take it away from him.

“Wow,” Sirius let out another whistle as he took the room in. “I’ve always known how much the Potter’s loved their silver, but this, this is quite something else.”

“It's wonderful,” Harry sighed happily. Sirius cocked an eyebrow in his direction, but Harry ignored it in favor of gazing over the vault one more time.

“Well, now that I have you all to myself,” Sirius trailed off, waggling his eyebrow suggestively and laughing when a hot blush stole over his godson’s face.

“No but seriously, I have something for you.” Harry watched curiously as his godfather pulled a bag out of his robe pocket and held it out towards him.

Harry opened the bag and pulled the item out from within; all the air in his body left in one breath as his green eyes absorbed the object in his hands.

It looked like a jewelry box, though larger than normal. The box was made from silver, with an additional layer of silver moulded into an ornamental layer. There was a mother of pearl in the center of the lid and smaller pearls tastefully studded the rest of the box.

As he swept his eyes over the box several times, he noticed something odd.

“Sirius, there’s no keyhole.” Harry looked up towards his godfather, hoping for an answer.

Sirius leaned over to inspect the box himself. “Huh. There isn't. Well that’s odd.”

“You mean you didn't know?” Harry was curious now, he had assumed that Sirius had bought the box as a gift for him.

“James had given me that bag one night and told me to give it to you when you turned seventeen.”

“Does Remus know?” The question seemed to make Sirius uncomfortable.

“About that... You can’t let Remus know about this, Harry. That one thing James made me promise. Remus can't know about that box, okay?”

Harry thought that was an odd request. Did his father not trust Remus with the box? Was there something important inside the box?

“I wonder how I’m supposed to open this,” Harry mumbled, turning the box this way and that, as if to discover the keyhole in a spot that he had overlooked.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out somehow. Now, why don’t you go over there, through that archway see,” Sirius pointed it out to a surprised Harry who had somehow managed to completely overlook that. “The gold should be in there, so go fill up your money pouch and lets get back so that we can do some shopping. Besides, Remus must be feeling pretty awkward just standing there by himself.”

Harry quickly ran over and filled the pouch with galleons and a handful of knuts — completely foregoing any sickles — and scampered out of the vault. He joined Sirius in the goblin cart and they made their way back up to the landing.

They found Remus leaning against a wall, patiently waiting for them.

“Oh, there you are. Almost thought you two were eaten by the dragon.”

“Dragon? What dragon?” Harry looked back to Sirius for clarification.

“Gringotts keeps a dragon in the lower levels as extra security for the vaults kept down there,” Remus answered, as he ushered the other two out the doors of the bank and towards Flourish and Blott’s.

“Oh. Well, I didn't see a dragon. Maybe it was taking a nap?” Harry suggested, only to find that Remus had disappeared among the bookshelves. Finding that he had been ignored, the teen pouted and glared at the werewolf’s back. Sirius laughed.

“Well, if it’s alright with you, I’ll be over there with the Harlequinns.” Sirius tossed him a saucy wink before sauntering off.

“Oh fine! Leave me! I’ll just stand here and talk to myself, not as if anyone pays attention to me any— Ooph!” Harry had turned around, intending to stomp off but had instead ran into someone.

“Watch where — Potter!” Harry vaguely registered that that affronted voice was familiar to him somehow, but he wasn’t paying any attention. Nuzzling his face deeper into the robes, Harry sniffed lightly; there was a tantalizing scent surrounding him, practically embedded into the fibers of this robe. Harry recognized this scent, it was comforting and arousing and safe all at once. If he could, Harry would have burried himself deeper into the robes, but he was rudely brought back to the present as he stumbled away from the source of the scent.

Mercury eyes stared at him with astonishment, as if the owner had never seen anything like him.

“Huh?” Harry’s mind was still in a fog induced by that scent. “Malfoy?”

“Oh great, did it really have to be him.” The owner of the robes, now identified as Malfoy, seemed to deflate as he reached some sort of decision.

Suddenly, a hand was thrust scant centimeters before his face.

“Draco Malfoy.” Green eyes stared dumbly at the appendage. Mercury eyes rolled in exasparation. “This is the part where you take my hand and introduce yourself.”

“Oh!” Quite unlike himself, Harry grasped the offered hand and offered a cautious smile.

“Harry Potter.”

Malfoy nodded in satisfaction.

“Well I wouldn’t go so far as to say that we are now friends.” Malfoy’s nose wrinkled at the thought. “Why don’t we just call it a truce and call it a day?” Those eyes turned to him, staring expectantly.

Harry knew that something important was happening, that it was in his best interests to be paying attention, but the lingering traces of the fog were clinging for all they were worth.

He settled for a simple nod.

Malfoy sighed.

“Let me just say that it would be in both of our interests to get along. Actually that sounds horrid. In the interest of our individual livelihoods, we should endeavor to reach a ceasefire.”

“Is this a trick?” At last the fog seemed to lift, though the situation itself still seemed surreal.

“It’s not a trick. He’d have my hide if I continued our hostilities, so I’m really just looking out for myself.” Harry didn’t really know who this He was that Malfoy referred to, but if this was his effect than he really couldn't be all that bad.

“Look Potter, just wait until term starts. I’m sure you’ll figure things out then. Promise.” With those last words, Malfoy turned around and strutted out of the shop.

“What just happened?” With a shake of his head, Harry pushed the incident to the back of his mind and just concentrated on finding Remus and Sirius.


End file.
